


It Started With A Question

by GhostKing0291



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But that is very minor, Fluff, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Hogwarts Fourth Year, I'll probably add more as I go, Jealous Draco Malfoy, M/M, Ron Weasley Bashing, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), for a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-30 05:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostKing0291/pseuds/GhostKing0291
Summary: To put it simply, Harry wasn't having a good week. He got detention from Snape, was rejected by Cho, and now he's talking to himself. What else could possibly go wrong? Insert one bedazzling Slytherin and you have your answer.





	1. Getting Lost Is A Talent

To put it simply, Harry had had a horrible week. He got detention from Snape for breathing or something equally mundane, he wasn’t really paying attention. Come to think of it, maybe that was why… But he wouldn’t have been spacing out if he hadn’t been rejected by Cho Chang! Apparently she was already going with Cedric, not that he minded that, he had nothing against him. He was really attractive and good looking and nice. No, he really couldn’t blame her for going with him, hell he’d go with Cedric if he asked. Wait what? No that didn’t seem right… Harry was supposed to like girls, wasn’t he? That's what uncle Vernon always said... But that didn’t feel right either.

Either way, his point remained. This week was utter bollocks and nothing would fix it. He stormed out of the dungeons after the usual snide comments and glares from the so-called potions professor, planning on heading straight back to the Gryffindor tower where he would spend the rest of the night complaining. In his defence, he never claimed to be creative in his plans for leisure. The cold night air kissed his skin as he started making his way to where he assumed the closest staircase was. You think after spending a bit over 3 years here, he’d have figured out where everything was, but that wouldn’t be the case.

"Life is just peachy, isn't it?" He started muttering to himself. At the very least, it'd add sound to the overly quiet hallway. "Wait no, it's not. If only I could have had the guts to ask her out just a few days earlier! Then I'd have a date and wouldn't need to worry about asking somebody else. But she's going with Cedric... at least I know she'll have fun though, which is more than I can say about me right now." He shivered as the cold seeped through the walls, was talking to himself a good sign or bad? He supposed it didn't really matter, as long as the company was good. And he was good company, he made fantastic jokes! It wasn't his fault that nobody else laughed at them or found them funny, everybody else just had bad tastes. 

The hallways were empty and far too quiet for his liking, which set him on edge. It was at this moment he could practically hear Mad-Eye Moody’s catchphrase ‘constant vigilance’ shouting through his head. How Slytherins could stand living in this part of the castle, Harry would never know. After a minute or so looking for a staircase to get out of there, he was getting pretty sick of it, he was about to give up when he heard footsteps behind him. A million thoughts started running through his head, what should he do? Was he in danger? What type of question was that, when wasn’t he in danger?

“Oi! Potter!” Visibly relaxing, he turned around with a sneer before coming face to face with the one and only Malfoy. As he waited for the blonde git to catch up to him, he couldn’t help but think something was off. Malfoy never confronted him without some sort of backup, what was he even doing out of bed at this hour? It was really late, he took a quick glimpse at his watch to see the hour hand resting on nine and oh Merlin he was old.

“What do you want Malfoy? If you couldn’t tell I’m a bit busy.” Draco looked him deep in the eyes, raising an eyebrow as if questioning his sanity. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him, he’d been in quite a weird situation when Malfoy starting chasing him at his usual elegant slow walking pace.

“Busy with what? Getting lost?”

“I’ll have you know, getting lost is a talent. A talent that I happen to be very good at, you think you can just get this good at getting lost? You need practice.” What the hell was he saying? Why did he say that of all things? He waited for the insult, however, it never came and it was now Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow as he waited for the blond to speak. Now that he looked, and he meant really looked, he noticed that Malfoy seemed nervous and kept switching his weight from leg to leg. Was he that nervous about confronting him alone? Why did he even decide to do this if that was the case?

“Look,” He started, realising he wasn’t saying anything, “you need help getting to the Gryffindor tower right? And don’t even bother denying it, you are clearly lost. So I’ll take you there after all nobody is better at navigating the dungeons as I am.” Despite himself, Harry knew he needed Malfoy’s help. So, if somewhat hesitantly, he began to follow Malfoy’s lead away from the dungeons.

Neither of them spoke, and Harry was fine with that, despite Malfoy clearly going over something that could only be described as painful. So time went on slowly, with the silence from the castle offering little help. Even after a while, he struggled to find something, anything, to say. Was it always this difficult to have a conversation with Malfoy? Now that he thought about it, he never really had a conversation with the Malfoy heir before. No wait, he did talk to him in Madam Malkin’s, and again on the train in their first year. But after that, their interactions have all been arguments of some sort.

“Here. Gryffindor tower told you I could get you here.” Harry never doubted him, though he didn’t say it out loud. He muttered a small thanks before getting ready to walk through the portrait, but before he could Malfoy quickly grabbed his arm. “Wait! I wanted to, I mean… That’s not the only reason I wanted to speak to you.”

Malfoy stood there, waiting to see if he’d say anything in reply. Not that he had anything to say, so he just waited for the grey-eyed Slytherin to continue on whatever he was talking about. It took a few minutes, in which he tried to wait as patiently as he could. He knew what it was like to try and find the right words, only to have insults thrown your way, so he waited.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you and the Weasel - I mean Weasley - today, and heard that you didn’t have a date to the Yule Ball.” Malfoy paused while he himself silently applauded Malfoy for not insulting his friend, though it heightened his earlier suspicions. What was he planning? “Well, it just so happens that I don’t have a date either, and I was thinking maybe we could possibly go together?” What?

“What?” seconds felt like hours as Harry took in what had just happened. Malfoy, his school enemy, asked him to the Yule Ball. His school enemy asked him on a date. The fuck? “Oh. Oh, I get it. You think this is funny, right? Look at ‘Saint Potter’ popular enough to be Dumbledore’s golden boy, but not enough to get a date! Let’s all laugh at Potter, shall we? Wait even better! Let’s see how low he’s willing to go? My money’s on Malfoy!”

He exploded at him, yelling enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if everybody woke up with his screaming, even though it wasn’t that late but that was a minor issue. His face turned into an angry snarl as the boy in front on him took a small step back, his face showing panic. Yeah, clearly he didn’t expect him to figure out his little ruse.

“Jokes on you Malfoy, that poker face you're so proud of gave you away. So congratulations, you officially became a statue! Your father must be so proud.” He turned away and started to walk through the painting, his anger already morphing into shame. “Just go back to the dungeons, the damp air matches your cold heart.”

“Harry, wait!” But he didn’t. He was sick of waiting, he was sick of waiting for Ron and Hermione to sort out whatever was happening between them, he was sick of being the odd one out, and he was sick of Malfoy trying to make fun of him for things he didn’t ask for, or couldn’t change. So he ignored the looks others gave him when he entered the Gryffindor common room and ignored how scared and hopeless Malfoy had looked when he caught on. He ignored everything.


	2. In which Harry fucks up but fixes it

Harry hated to admit it, he didn’t want to admit it, but he was honest enough to realise he had been a twat towards Malfoy. It’s been nearly a week since that night and he hadn’t seen the Slytherin once. He wanted to try and apologize for his behaviour, but he couldn’t if that stupid git wouldn’t let him! How was he supposed to say sorry to someone who was avoiding him?

Hermione would know, he supposed, but he couldn’t exactly tell her what happened. ‘Oh, hey Hermione! I was just wondering how I should apologize to Malfoy, you know, the guy who bullied us mercilessly for years, cause he asked me out and I was a total dick towards him.’ Yes, he could see that conversation going well. With a heavy sigh, he continued copying the notes in front of him as professor Snape stalked the room, keeping a careful watch on all the students.

Malfoy couldn’t keep avoiding him forever, they’d have to see each other again eventually. They share so many classes together, it’d be impossible to avoid him… unless Malfoy ended up skipping. Harry wouldn’t put it past him, after all, that’s what he’s been doing the past week. He’d never appeared for charms, or transfiguration, even now the blond was missing from potions. Not to mention he appeared to be skipping meals too, which was definitely not healthy. He may not like the git, but he didn’t want the guy to starve, especially not over something like this.

There’s no way he could stay cooped up, wherever he was, forever. At the very least he’s got to go home sometime. He’d want to see his parents, or at the very least his mother, Harry knew personally how ‘friendly’ his father was. Shuddering the thought away, he realised maybe they weren’t that different after all. Thinking back to the train ride that awaits him when it’s time to go home and, by Merlin’s beard he was a genius! He could kiss himself right now! He didn’t really know how that would work but still. Draco would have to go home, meaning he’d need to catch the train. That’s when Harry would get him!

“Potter,” His name was spat out with so much venom he couldn’t help but flinch. “Stay back after class, I need to speak with you. And believe me, this is a conversation we will both be dreading.” Snape scowled before walking away again. The only thing he could possibly think that Snape would want to talk to him about was, yeah nope. He had nothing. Harry had no idea what to expect for the upcoming conversation.

The rest of class went by quickly as everyone filed out, preparing to finish homework or relax. Well, everyone except him. Harry stood in front of Snape, trying hard not to fidget under the stern glare that was being shot in his direction. Neither of them said anything for a time, waiting for the other to speak first as if it were some sort of game. In the end, Harry won.

“I’m sure you are aware that I despise you.” Harry went to open his mouth, but Snape continued before he could get any words out, “However, for some reason beyond my contemplation, Draco seems to like you. And while I hate the drama you dunderheads end up getting in, I refuse to stand by as my godson isolates himself in the Slytherin dormitories.” Harry feels himself flinch as Snape scrunches up his face in agony.

“You know what happened?” When there was no answer other than a stony look, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know what I said was wrong, and I want to apologize to Draco! But I just couldn’t find him, but I have a plan now.”

“Potter, your plans have all lead to devastation some way or another.” He wanted to argue, really he did… but honestly, Snape had a point with that. Nothing was said for a brief moment as he sat there thinking. If his plan really sucked that much, what did Snape suggest? Breaking into the Slytherin common room? “With that being said, I’ve no option other than helping you, with great reluctance, in solving this. It is because of you my best student has failed to show up for classes.”

What? Did he hear that right? Did professor Snape really just say that he was going to help him? It’s a shame that Skeeter wasn’t here to write this down, for surely this was a moment for the history books. Why did he feel like he’d get hit with a book for that if Hermione was here?

“The password is Basilisk Fang.” Coming out of his argument with himself, Harry looked up at the head of Slytherin, confused. What was the password for? As if he read his mind, Snape looked down at him, clearly annoyed and wishing he could be somewhere else. “The password is for the Slytherin common room. And you wonder why you're failing my class.”

With nothing else to be said, the gloomy professor swept out of the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. Standing alone in the classroom, Harry thought about what just happened. Professor Snape was getting involved in his love life? With Draco Malfoy being in his said love life. It was insane! The only explanation he could think of was that he died in the first task. Yes, that had to be it. There is no other way this could possibly be real… right?

Harry shifted slightly before walking out of the cold classroom. What was he supposed to do? Even with the password to get into the Slytherin dormitories, he couldn’t exactly just walk around the place until he found Draco. How would he even explain that? ‘Oh hey Draco, so I know you probably hate me and I’m not supposed to be here but it’s okay because Snape gave me the password!’ That didn’t exactly sound like a good excuse, it didn’t even sound real.

It wasn’t like he’d even get to Draco in the first place, some other Slytherin would see him first and he’d no doubt get kicked out. Honestly, how did Snape think this would work in the first place? It’s not like he could just make himself invisible… except he could, and he was a giant idiot! How could he forget that he had a freaking invisibility cloak? Hermione definitely would have hit him with a book this time.

Harry had to keep himself from running up to his trunk, he couldn’t go now. There were far too many people roaming about, and if the Slytherin common room was anything like his own, then it’d be full of people. There’d be no way he could privately talk to Draco now. No, he’d have to wait until later, after dinner maybe? Yeah, that sounded good. He could wait that long. It was only… three hours away! He was going to waste away waiting that long.

He made his way to the library to study, and he really did try to. He had managed to find a table and pile it with books. To anybody walking by, he would have looked like he was really invested in studying, trying to get the highest mark he can. But damn him if he couldn’t pay attention. Every second his eyes flicked towards his watch, his eyes followed the words on the page, but he wasn’t reading them. How was it so hard to just read a page?

The hours ticked by painfully slow, and by the time it was dinner, Harry hadn’t read a sentence. His eyes were watery as he ignored the pain in his eyes from the lack of blinking. He knew the saying a watched pot never boils, but he had never realised just how slow time could actually go. With a tired grunt, he quickly packed the books away and made his way to dinner.

Everything around him became blurred and the conversations around him were little more than mumbled whispers. He could hear Hermione and Ron talking, though he couldn’t understand it. It felt like he was underwater, he tried to follow along, really he did, but everything just felt heavy. He barely ate anything and after a minute he felt like he was shaking.

Breaking away from his haze, he watched as Hermione stormed off, clearly upset. Ron, beside him, was red in the face and had his cheeks puffed out in anger. What happened between them? What did he miss?

“Can you believe her?” Not fully understanding the situation, he could only nod along before saying he was full and following Hermione's example and walked out. Just one more hour until curfew. One more hour and he was home free.

Nobody tried to talk to him, other than Hermione who only told him to go to bed because he was clearly sick. He did feel sick, though not in the puking sense, more like everything on his inside wanted to be outside. Or was that the puking type of sick. His head felt heavy and his nerves were getting the better of him. Harry was fairly certain that that was the only thing wrong with him right now. Though he did go up to his bed, he drew the curtains and quietly retrieved his invisibility cloak.

It was still half an hour until curfew, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. This has been bothering him all day, and now it’s up to the point where he’s getting sick. He needed to talk to Draco. Now. Quietly, he sneaks amongst the bunch of Gryffindors that are still in the common room. It was only 6:30. Did that mean that there’d be a big group of Slytherins in their common room too?

Harry thought while he made his way down the numerous stairs. He could always wait a few more hours, but he didn’t think he’d able to stand waiting that long. He never claimed to be patient. He didn’t know about Slytherins, but the Gryffindor common room was usually empty around eight. Maybe he could wait just one more hour and a half before continuing the way there?

No, he doubted he could. Now that he was actually heading there, he was feeling a lot better. His head wasn’t heavy, and he didn’t feel like he was going to be sick. Instead, he felt like he could run a marathon and still have enough energy for Quidditch after. It was like he was on a sugar high, but the sugar was nerves.

The trip to the dungeons felt like it flew by, and honestly, he couldn’t remember a second of it. Now standing in front of a blank wall, it was all Harry could do not to panic. Pacing back and forth, he looked at the wall. What was he supposed to do when he got in? What if Draco wasn’t in the common room? How was he going to manage to climb the stairs to whatever dormitories he was in? How would he figure out which one Draco was in?

This was poorly planned on his part, maybe he could still back out? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. He’d just walk back to his nice, comfy bed and go to sleep. Except he wouldn’t be able to sleep. And this feeling wouldn’t go away. He really needed to talk to Draco.

With a steady breath, Harry eyed the wall warily before saying the password. He entered through quickly, praying to whatever God was listening that luck was in his favor. Fortunately, luck was on his side as he came across an empty, green chamber with a distressed Draco who was crying into Parkinson’s shoulder.

“You don’t understand, he totally rejected me. I mean, I was expecting it, but to hear it…” Draco sobbed into the girl’s shoulder as she rubbed his back. Out of everything he was expecting to see, this was not it. “How can I just face him after that?”

“I know sweetie, I know,” Parkinson sighed, trying to keep a soothing aura around the wounded boy he imagined. Guilt washed over him as he waited. He felt like he shouldn’t be listening to this, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t stop. “but it’s been a week now. You can’t stay locked in here forever, you have to come out sometime.”

“Why? Why must I? Can’t I just go home? Drop out? I mean, who really needs an education?” Sometime during his little rant, Draco managed to unhook himself from Parkinson to look at her. Harry felt his cheeks start to burn at the intense shade of grey that his eyes were. Were they always so pretty? Yes, he just never paid attention enough to realise. “Now that I think about it, I can just be homeschooled! That will work perfectly!”

“Draco, dear, you can’t be homeschooled. What about your friends? Or being a Slytherin? Or Quidditch?” He looked away, he couldn’t imagine a Hogwarts without Draco, whether it was as an enemy or friend. As the thought sped through his head, he began to wonder what would have happened if he had taken his hand that first day at Hogwarts. Would they have ended up dating? Or would they have just been close friends? Would they have even stayed friends after a while?

“Why should I listen to you? The last time I listened to your advice, it lead to a broken heart.” Parkinson flinched as she looked away, while Draco scowled at the black-haired girl in front of him. “Yes. You were the one who said I should confess to Harry, and I was stupid enough to listen to you! Honestly, why I did I will never know. You’ve always been full of stupid advice. That’s the last time I ever acknowledge any idea that comes out your mouth!”

“I was only trying to help!” The two were shouting now, and Parkinson was standing up now. Harry flinched at the sudden movement but otherwise stood still. He didn’t like where this was going, did stuff like this always happen? “But since you so clearly don’t want it, then I guess I’ll leave you to sort this mess out yourself!” Parkinson storms off, Harry barely dodging her as she made her way to where he assumed their dorms were.

Harry stood still, making sure his breathing was quiet. Draco was so close now, just a few steps and he’d be able to touch him. Not that he would touch him, that’d be invading his personal space and he’d never do something like that. A new force of determination bubbling inside him, Harry quickly made his way next to a now closed-eyed Draco.

Now only a little ways away from the blond Slytherin, he realised he didn’t know exactly what to say. He began to think of something to say, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable being surrounded by green. ‘It’s not that hard, just go up and say sorry!’ Not wanting to start another argument in his own head, he opened his mouth, prepared to speak when Draco beat him to the punch.

“Go away.” Harry merely raised an eyebrow before realising he was still under the invisibility cloak. How did Draco realise he was here? Hell, he still had his eyes closed, there was no way he could even see! “Didn’t you hear me? Go away!” Draco finally opened his eyes and faced him, before his face scrunched up in confusion. With a soft sigh, Harry decided to finally reveal himself.

“Hey.” He pulled the cloak off and watched as Draco started to silently panic. His face was showing no emotions, but his eyes betrayed him. He could practically hear the shouts that were happening in the blond’s mind. “Before you kick me out, and you have every reason to, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Harry waited for some sort of response. Any response. But he never actually received one. The two just sat there, looking at each other for a while. Both were waiting for the other to say something, but realising this conversation was never going to move forward with him speaking, Harry continued on.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry because the way I reacted wasn’t fair and I was a giant twat. You have every reason to be upset with me and say all the cruel things you can come up with, and I know that I deserve it. I’ve been trying all week to find you to apologize but I couldn’t find you, and well… I just thought I should say that.”

Still, silence rang on, and Harry was starting to grow uncomfortable by the calculating look Draco was giving him now. With a shuddering breath, and a small pause he continued. He didn’t exactly know what he was saying anymore, but honestly, when did he ever?

“So, I’m really sorry for the way I acted Draco. And for what it’s worth, I hope you don’t leave. Hogwarts that is. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Draco’s reaction looked kind of cute, he thought as his eyes widened. “Anyways, that’s all I wanted to say, so I’ll just go now…” Harry made his way to leave, grabbing his invisibility cloak, before a hand wrapped around his wrist desperately.

“Don’t!” Harry turned around to face the grey-eyed Slytherin, shock was written on his face as he watched the distress quickly hide. “Don’t just say all that then leave. You can’t… I mean. Ah! Now I’m fumbling for words, this is all your fault Potter!” Harry laughed as he let himself be dragged back onto the couch.

“Apparently I just have that effect on people, though I was surprised I had that effect on you Draco.” His name rolled off his tongue nicely, and he hoped he could say the name more. It felt nice to say, Draco. Draco was a nice name he decided.

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.” Harry raised an eyebrow, mirroring Draco’s expression. “My name, that’s the second time you’ve called me by my name.” He tried to hide his smile at the attitude in his voice.

“Those are usually how people refer to others, by using their names.” Draco gave him the look, it was a very special look that he realised was reserved for him. He’d never seen Draco use this look on anyone but him and it expressed how everyone felt about him perfectly, annoyed and angry at his witty remarks. “I started calling you Draco this morning. I was over thinking stuff and I realised, well, maybe we aren’t too different after all.” Draco hummed in satisfaction and leaned back in the couch.

“Does this mean I can call you Harry?”

“If you want.” Harry smiled and looked at the roof. Who would believe him if he said he was currently having a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy of all people? If he told anyone, they’d probably think he was insane. Wasn’t he? A debate for another day. “I’d like it if you called me by my name.”

“Then I will.” The two sat in silence for a little while longer, avoiding each other’s eyes. This was, for lack of better words, awkward. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I didn’t give you much of a reason to think I was being honest with my invitation.”

“Well let’s change that,” Harry said immediately, offering his hand out with a big smile. “Let’s start again. Hi! I’m Harry Potter, I’m also the boy-who-lived, though I hate that title. I love treacle tarts and my favorite colour is green.” Draco laughed as he started spouting nonsense. What the hell was he doing? It wasn’t long before he took his hand to shake it though.

“I’m Draco Malfoy, I was raised to believe in blood superiority, though I realise that’s wrong now and am trying to turn a new leaf. I love flying and playing Quidditch, and my favorite colour is green.” The two continue to shake their hands for a little longer, both smiling harder than they had for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm planning on trying to update every Friday, though exams and assignments are coming up in a few weeks so it might get slow in a few weeks. If there are any mistakes in this, please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this. I know this concept has probably been way overused by now but I wanted to give it a go myself cause I have a few ideas of my own to try out. So I hope you enjoyed this enough to stay and see what happens in the future, thanks for reading!


End file.
